Chapter 10: chapter 9: you won't remember me

Gyuvin sat at his desk, barely paying attention to the lesson as his fingers absently reached into his pocket. The rough texture of the stolen page brushed against his skin.

He pulled it out, flattening the slightly crumpled edges against his knee.

The drawing was incomplete. At first glance, it looked like chaos. Sharp, fragmented strokes clashing against softer, sweeping lines. Some parts were heavily inked, like Ricky had pressed his pen down too hard, as if he were trying to carve something into the paper.

Gyuvin narrowed his eyes, but still didn't understand anything.

Gyuvin's eyes finally dropped to the single sentence scrawled at the bottom, written in Ricky's slanted, elegant handwriting.

"How much longer do I have to wait?"

He swallowed, his grip on the page tightening. It could be just a random incomplete drawing, but knowing Ricky, it probably has some hidden meaning.

As soon as the final bell rang, Gyuvin barely paid attention to anything else. He gathered his things, slung his bag over his shoulder, and stepped out into the crisp afternoon air. His phone buzzed in his pocket—his mom, asking him to pick something up on the way home.

He sighed, changing direction toward the small convenience store nearby.

And then, as he turned a corner, his steps faltered.

He found himself on a very familiar street.

The place was an old pavilion behind his  middle school, hidden just enough by trees that most students ignored it. It was where kids went to escape and wanted a moment of quiet.

Gyuvin had never been one of those kids. He was loud, always surrounded by people, always moving. But for some reason, for a brief time, he had found himself going there.

Because he was there.

A boy—someone Gyuvin knew. They had been in the same school for years, but he was the type that blended into the background. Quiet. Watchful. The kind of person you forgot was there until he spoke.

Gyuvin had met him properly one afternoon, back when the air was thick with the last warmth of autumn. He had been running from some friends, dodging playful shouts and laughter, when he ended up there by accident. The boy had already been sitting on the bench, staring off into the distance.

Gyuvin had slowed down, catching his breath. "Didn't mean to barge in."

The boy had only glanced at him. "You're loud."

Gyuvin had grinned. "Yeah. You're not."

That was how it started. Gyuvin didn't know why he kept coming back, but he did. Maybe it was because the boy was different—calm, almost unnerving in the way he could sit in silence without feeling awkward. Or maybe it was because he always had something interesting to say, even if he didn't talk much.

One day, Gyuvin had flopped onto the bench beside him, stretching out like he owned the place. "Minsu, do you ever think about the future?"

The boy had tilted his head slightly. "What about it?"

"Like, where you'll be in a few years. What you'll be doing. Who you'll still be talking to."

Minsu had been quiet for a moment, then said, "You won't remember me."

Gyuvin had blinked. "What?"

"People like you always forget people like me."

Gyuvin had laughed, nudging his shoulder playfully. "What, you think I'll just erase you from my brain?"

The boy had given him a look—calm, unreadable.

And then, one day, the boy just stopped showing up.

Gyuvin stood still, heart slowing as an old memory bled into the present.

He shook his head, pushing the memory away and walking past the bench as if it meant nothing and went home.

Gyuvin barely had time to react before his little sister came bounding toward him the moment he stepped through the door.

"Gyuvinnie!" she squealed, throwing her tiny arms around his leg.

Gyuvin laughed, effortlessly scooping her up into his arms. "What's up, troublemaker?"

She scrunched her nose. "Mommy said if I don't eat my veggies, I'll turn into a goblin. Is that true?"

Gyuvin gasped dramatically. "Yes! You'll also become green."

His sister let out a shriek, kicking her legs as he spun her around before finally setting her down. Gyuvin made his way to the kitchen.

His mom was at the stove, stirring something that smelled way too good. When she noticed him, she held out her hand expectantly.

"You brought it?"

Gyuvin handed over the bag she had asked him to pick up. "Yeah, yeah. You should be thanking your perfect son for his hard work."

His mom rolled her eyes but still ruffled his hair in thanks. "How was school?"

Gyuvin shrugged. "Same old."

His mom hummed. Then, as if she just remembered something, she turned to him.

"Oh, right. Your volunteer program. I was shocked you even attended."

Gyuvin smirked, leaning against the counter. "Yeah, well, I'm the best and most proactive student, remember?"

His mom scoffed, clearly not believing a word of it. "So? How was it?"

"It was fun, actually," Gyuvin admitted. Then, without thinking much of it, he added, "I met Ricky there."

The reaction was instant.

His mom froze.

The spoon in her hand clattered against the pot, and she turned to stare at him, eyes wide.

Gyuvin blinked. "Uh. Mom?"

"You—" she cut herself off, inhaled sharply, then smacked him with a towel.

"OW—what was that for?!"

"Why didn't you tell me?!" she scolded, hitting him again.

"Tell you what?! That I ran into someone?!" Gyuvin ducked, raising his hands in surrender.

His mom gave him a pointed glare, clearly unimpressed. "I can't believe you didn't tell me. Ricky—our Ricky—after all these years?"

Gyuvin blinked. "Uh. Yeah?"

His mom smacked his arm again before dramatically crossing her arms. "Unbelievable. I want him over for dinner."

Gyuvin choked. "What?"

"You heard me. Invite him over."

Gyuvin exhaled, rubbing his temple.

Great. Just great.

Gyuvin trudged into his room, shutting the door behind him with a quiet thud. He flopped onto his bed, staring at the ceiling as if it would magically give him a way out of this situation.

Why did his mom have to be so stubborn?

With a sigh, he pulled out his phone, scrolling through his contacts until he landed on the name he had saved recently. He hesitated for a second, his thumb hovering over the call button.

Did he really have to do this?

Groaning, he finally pressed the green button.

The ringing started.

One ring.

Two.

Three.

Maybe Ricky wouldn't pick up. Maybe he was busy. Maybe this was a sign that he shouldn't—

"Hello?"

Gyuvin's breath hitched for a split second before he quickly pulled himself together. "Uh. Hey."

Silence.

"Gyuvin," Ricky acknowledged, his tone unreadable.

"So, uh," Gyuvin started, running a hand through his hair. "Listen, this isn't a big deal or anything, but—"

"Be faster."

Gyuvin scowled. "Would it kill you to have some patience?"

"Depends. Are you going to drag this out any longer?"

Gyuvin gritted his teeth. This guy.

"Fine. My mom wants you to come over for dinner."

Silence again.

Gyuvin braced himself for rejection. Ricky had no reason to accept, right? He'd probably scoff, say he was busy, or make some excuse—

"Alright."

Gyuvin sat up straight. "What?"

"I said alright," Ricky repeated.

Gyuvin blinked. He wasn't expecting that. "You're actually coming?"

"You sound disappointed," Ricky noted.

"Shut up," Gyuvin grumbled. "I just thought you'd have better things to do."

Ricky hummed in amusement. "I guess you'll just have to suffer through my presence for one more evening."

Gyuvin rolled his eyes. "Whatever. Just don't be late."

"Noted," Ricky said, before adding with a smirk in his voice, "Looking forward to it."

The call ended before Gyuvin could respond.

Gyuvin walked toward the school gates. He was about to plug in his earphones when he heard his name being called from behind.

"Gyuvin! Wait!"

Turning around, he saw Gunwook, Junhyeon, and Yujin jogging toward him.

"Are you coming to the PC room today?" Gunwook asked, slightly out of breath.

"Nah," Gyuvin replied casually.

Junhyeon furrowed his brows. "What? Why not?"

"Yeah, you never skip," Yujin added, narrowing his eyes suspiciously.

Gyuvin debated whether to make up some excuse, but after a few seconds of their expectant stares, he sighed. "My mom invited Ricky over for dinner."

Silence.

Then—

"WHAT?!"

"You're ditching us for Ricky?" Gunwook exclaimed, looking personally betrayed.

"Your mom invited him?" Junhyeon repeated, his jaw dropping.

"I didn't even know you guys were that close," Yujin muttered, giving Gyuvin a knowing look.

"It's not like that!" Gyuvin quickly defended. "She just— I don't know, she found out that he returned and basically forced me to invite him."

Gunwook crossed his arms, pouting. "Man, I want Gyuvin's mom's food too."

"Same," Junhyeon groaned.

"This is so unfair," Yujin muttered.

"Tell your mom we exist too," Gunwook huffed. "We deserve love."

Gyuvin chuckled, shaking his head. "Alright, I'll see you guys tomorrow."

He waved them off and headed home.

Suddenly, Gyuvin's phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out, squinting at the screen. Ricky?

"Hi?"

"I sent you an address," Ricky's voice came through, smooth and direct. "Meet me there. It's on your way home anyway."

Gyuvin blinked. "Huh? Why?"

"Just because."

And with that, Ricky hung up.

With a sigh, Gyuvin adjusted his bag strap and followed the directions.

The address led him to a bakery called La Crème. The moment he stepped inside, a wave of warmth and the sweet scent of fresh pastries enveloped him. The place was surprisingly fancy—gold accents, glass display cases filled with intricate desserts, and soft jazz playing in the background.

Gyuvin scanned the room for Ricky. His eyes landed on him near the window, sitting alone with his headphones on, completely immersed in whatever he was working on.

Ricky's usual slick, all-black outfit made him stand out, effortlessly cool as always. But his face—his slightly furrowed brows, the way his lips pressed together in deep concentration—was different. He looked... confused, almost struggling.

The sight triggered flashbacks in Gyuvin's mind of Korean lessons. Ricky, sitting beside him with the same furrowed brows, trying to make sense of unfamiliar words, his frustration barely hidden beneath his calm exterior.

Without thinking, Gyuvin made his way over and plopped down in the seat across from him. Ricky blinked, pulled off his headphones, and glanced up.

"Oh, it's you." His voice was flat.

Gyuvin leaned in, resting his chin on his palm. "What are you doing?"

"Homework," Ricky said simply, pushing a page toward him.

Gyuvin picked it up, these were sketches. Pages of them. Intricate, detailed, raw.

Gyuvin studied them carefully before looking back up at Ricky. "Damn," he said, genuinely impressed. "These are good."

Ricky blinked, just for a second, before tilting his head slightly. "...Yeah?"

Gyuvin nodded, a grin tugging at his lips. "Yeah."

For the first time, Ricky looked—just a little—flustered.

Gyuvin barely had time to process the shift in Ricky's expression before he noticed the way his gaze flickered past him. Curious, he turned around—only to see Jeonghyeon approaching their table.

"Hey," Jeonghyeon greeted, his voice smooth and warm as he smiled at both of them. "I have to go now."

Ricky gave a small nod, his expression unreadable.

Then, just like that, Jeonghyeon leaned down and pressed a quick peck to Ricky's cheek, his fingers lightly grazing Ricky's arm as he pulled away.

Gyuvin's stomach twisted, his whole body tensing as he stared at the scene unfolding in front of him.

His gaze flicked toward Gyuvin again, and he gave him a small, knowing smile. "It was nice seeing you again, Gyuvin."

Gyuvin blinked, his throat suddenly dry. "Yeah..."

Jeonghyeon turned and walked away.

Gyuvin turned back to Ricky, searching for any sign of reaction—maybe a flustered look, maybe even a smug smirk—but Ricky simply picked up his pen again, twirling it between his fingers like nothing had happened.

Gyuvin shifted uncomfortably in his seat before awkwardly clearing his throat. "So... you and Jeonghyeon?" he muttered, avoiding Ricky's gaze.

Ricky glanced up from his sketchbook, blinking. "What?"

Gyuvin scratched his cheek. "Like... dating or something?"

A pause.

Ricky stared at him for a second before answering. "We're not."

Gyuvin frowned. "Then what was that kiss about?"

Ricky shrugged, his expression unreadable. "Just... a close friendship between two men."

Gyuvin scoffed, rolling his eyes. "That's the dumbest answer I've ever heard."

Ricky only smirked.

Annoyed, Gyuvin stood up. "We should go. My mom will kill me if we're late."

Ricky closed his sketchbook and slipped it into his bag before standing as well. As they made their way toward the exit, Ricky suddenly stopped in front of the display case filled with cakes and pastries.

"Wait," Ricky said, tilting his head as he scanned the selection. "Which one would your mom like?"

Gyuvin blinked, then turned to look at the options. His eyes flickered over the cakes, thoughtfully considering before pointing at one. "Mango."

Ricky immediately smacked his arm.

Gyuvin recoiled, rubbing the spot with a glare. "What was that for?"

"I asked which one your mom would like, not you." Ricky crossed his arms.

Gyuvin blinked again before turning to him. "Wait... you remember that I like mango?"

Ricky clicked his tongue, shifting uncomfortably. "Of course, idiot."

Gyuvin narrowed his eyes, watching as Ricky looked away, clearly annoyed but also—flustered?

The corners of Gyuvin's lips twitched upward, but before he could tease Ricky about it, he sighed dramatically and picked another option. "Fine. The whoopie pie one. She likes chocolate too."

Ricky nodded, satisfied, and turned to the cashier. "We'll take those."

As the cashier packed the cakes, Ricky grabbed a chocolate bar from the counter and added it to the purchase.

Ricky paid for the everything, then turned and shoved the chocolate bar into Gyuvin's hands.

"Take it."

Gyuvin frowned, pushing it back. "I don't want it."

"Don't be stubborn," Ricky said casually, smirking as he forced it into Gyuvin's hands again.